


Play The Game

by swishydetective



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale as Brother Francis, Crowley as Nanny Ashtoreth, Crowley in a corset, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Ficlet, First Kiss, Fluff, Good Omens Fic Week, M/M, One Shot, Raising the Antichrist together, Sharing a Bed, because nanny ashtoreth's waist is snatched, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishydetective/pseuds/swishydetective
Summary: When Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis raised who they thought was the Antichrist together, it was assumed they were a couple, of course.





	Play The Game

**Author's Note:**

> For the Good Omens Fic Week 2019. I had fun with this fake dating prompt. This isn't really edited because I wrote it in one sitting, so don't be too harsh on me lovies. 
> 
> Enjoy x

Part of Crowley’s plan to make sure the Antichrist didn’t destroy the universe had Aziraphale and himself infiltrate the Dowling’s mansion and raise him together to ensure he wouldn’t be influenced towards only good or evil. 

“There is no way you’re the nanny, Aziraphale, you know nothing about children.”

“I do too!” he exclaimed, offended.

The demon rolled his eyes at him. 

“May I remind you of that time in Italy?”

Aziraphale glared angrily, lips pursed, defeated. He had handled the situation very badly, but in his defense, he had gotten peckish and the children had been playing a game calmly, so he thought going out for just a few minutes to find some figs wouldn’t do any harm… Thankfully Crowley had caught the children mid-fight and saved a few eyes by confiscating rocks. 

“Fine. You look better with long hair than I do anyway.

-Hm?

-Well I might not know anything about children but I do know very few families hire men as nannies. 

-Right,” Crowley’s brows furrowed, as he was already thinking of the right clothes for a respectable nanny. 

“I’ll get to wear a hat,” he smiled, Aziraphale mirroring his joy. 

“And I can be the gardener!

-Angel.

-I know how to keep a few plants alive, dear!” he glanced at Crowley sideways, offended by his lack of trust in him. 

“Besides, there aren’t many other choices. We both remember last time I cooked something…” 

Crowley cackled. 

It was settled. Crowley grew his hair again and Aziraphale read up on botany. They applied on the same day and miraculously got hired. Crowley went by the name Nanny Ashtoreth and Aziraphale went by Brother Francis. They met the whole family and staff that day. Nanny Ashtoreth stood tall and menacing next to Brother Francis’s friendly, albeit a bit off-putting frame. 

During their interview, Mr. Dowling had stared at Nanny Ashtoreth’s dark yet highly enticing figure, unable to look away. He had hoped he would see her eyes but she never took the round sunglasses off. She must have noticed him staring because she smirked at him, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Brother Francis had done all the talking and was highly praising the nanny’s work. 

“She’s always had a gift with children, I can assure you Mrs. Dowling, she just knows how to make them walk in a straight line.

-How long have you two been together?” asked the tired mother, holding a fussy Antichrist. 

Aziraphale and Crowley turned to each other abruptly. This wasn’t the first time people assumed they were a couple. In fact, one time, a young lady who was running in Saint James Park stopped to tell them she often saw them feeding the ducks together and thought they made a lovely couple. Aziraphale had avoided Crowley for a month afterwards, trying to prevent a conversation he wasn’t ready to have yet from happening. However, this definitely had bigger implications. They would have to pretend to be together for years...

“Oh, it seems like it has been forever,” Nanny Ashtoreth replied politely. 

Aziraphale froze in his chair but went along with it. He put a warm hand on top of Crowley’s, smiling warmly. 

“I am a very lucky man.” 

“You two?!” had slipped the ambassador, incredulous. 

“Yes,” Nanny Ashtoreth replied a bit forcefully. 

Thankfully the rest of the interview went smoothly and Mrs. Dowling seemed completely charmed by the pair. She insisted they start working immediately. 

She showed them their quarters and let them unpack. Aziraphale closed the door behind her and let out a sigh of relief. Crowley stood very still next to him. 

“What is it, dear?”

The demon raised a hand towards their new sleeping situation. 

“Oh.”

They glanced at each other. 

“W-Well, it’s only for a few months, I imagine… Once the child sleeps through the night they’ll hardly need us, I mean you, to stay here, right?” 

“Right.” 

They awkwardly chose a side of the bed and placed their belongings in the closet and the drawer. Their first night sharing a bed was very strange. Crowley, who had always loved sleeping, laid extremely still and didn’t even blink once. Aziraphale, on the other hand, kept turning around, unaccustomed to the friction of his pajamas with the sheets. Once, he bumped into the demon’s side as he flip flopped on the mattress. They were staring right into the other’s eyes. 

“Sorry,” uttered the angel, cheeks burning.

“Don’t mention it.” 

Thankfully, Warlock decided he needed his diaper changed right after the exchange and Crowley switched back into Nanny Ashtoreth, running to the child in her nightgown. 

A few weeks passed and the plan seemed to pay off, as the busy parents completely left the child to the care of the nanny and “her husband”. Crowley and Aziraphale sold their romance pretty well, as they always kept whispering things to each other and running off in secluded corners of the mansion. Really, they were arguing about the child and the way to raise him, but none of the humans were the wiser. 

One night, as they lay next to each other in perfect stillness, Aziraphale decided to ask the question that had been on his mind ever since they got hired. 

“Why didn’t you just deny it? You could have easily said that we simply worked together before. Why say that we are a couple?”

There was a pregnant pause before Crowley answered: 

“I don’t know angel. Humans just always assume we’re together and it’s simpler to… Go along with it. Why, do you mind?” 

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. 

“No, of course not. I just wondered, is all. Do you?

-No,” replied the demon, his yellow eyes looking away.

They fell silent. They spent the night hashing their thoughts as the baby slept soundly in his crib next door down. 

The next morning, Nanny Ashtoreth took Warlock out for a walk in the garden. The Dowlings had bought an old-timey stroller which went perfectly with the nanny’s looks. The child and the demon got caught in the rain and Nanny Ashtoreth did the best she could to run back inside in heels, pushing a stroller that was everything but all-terrain. Brother Francis had been tending to the gardenias and he ran to their rescue, umbrella in hand. Mrs. Dowling, who had witnessed the scene from inside couldn’t help but smile. 

Nanny Ashtoreth gave the child back to his mother and excused herself. Brother Francis stayed and chatted with the mother who gushed about his chivalry. He blushed and protested he was simply doing what any good husband would do. Then he started blabbering about husbands and the origins of chivalry. He stopped himself before he could say anything to betray his total lack of knowledge about what husbands should  _ actually _ do. 

He retreated away to their quarters, opening the door with a look upwards, embarrassed by his lack of cool under pressure. 

“Oh!” 

“Angel! Close the door!” hissed Crowley. 

Aziraphale, flustered, did as he was told. Crowley’s chest was bare, save for the corset that was half undone. The angel couldn’t help but stare. He so seldom saw Crowley in any state of undress. Crowley didn’t know how to stand, feeling stupid for wanting to cover his chest but feeling the urge nonetheless. He crossed his arms in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. 

Aziraphale was awkwardly swaying on the doorstep, turning his straw hat in his hands nervously. 

“Well since you’re here, can you help me out with the corset? It’s hell to get out of, especially wet,” sighed the demon. “I wouldn’t want to go and catch a deadly cold. I’m not in a Jane Austen novel.” 

The angel almost asked why he didn’t miracle it off but caught himself just in time. He also made a mental note to ask Crowley about his thoughts on  _ Sense and Sensibility  _ later. He walked over to Crowley carefully. He turned around, exposing his back. Aziraphale let out a breath as he touched the tan skin. He ran his fingers over the marks the corset had left in Crowley’s back. He shivered at the touch. 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” wondered Aziraphale out loud. 

“It’s constricting but… I wouldn’t say it’s bad,” admitted Crowley. 

The angel’s fingers carefully undid the lacing, grazing skin softly. The piece of shapewear finally taken off, Crowley turned around, throwing it on the bed, wearing only the very damp skirts. They looked at each other, breathing a bit more heavily than necessary. Aziraphale waved a hand and changed back into his normal self, wishing the buck teeth away. Crowley raised a hand to do the same, but his angel caught his wrist softly. 

“You don’t need to.” 

Crowley’s eyes fell to the angel’s lips, then up again, straight into the baby blues, hesitant. Aziraphale took matters into his own hands. He gently took Crowley’s chin and brought him down, softly locking lips with him. Crowley’s hands found the small of Aziraphale’s back, bringing him in closer. The kiss was tender, nervous, careful. Crowley sighed into the kiss, allowing himself freedom like never before. Aziraphale’s stomach was filled with butterflies, not believing what he just dared to do. 

There was a knock on the door, which startled the two lovebirds. 

“Nanny Ashtoreth? Mrs. Dowling asked for you, Warlock’s crying again.” 

“Coming,” answered Crowley. 

He looked back at Aziraphale and miracled himself some dry clothes. He was about to leave when he turned around and kissed him once again, just because he could. 

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
